Heirot

The kingdom had erupted in utter chaos the past couple of days when news arrived that the Outerlands had pulled out of the treaty with Arken and sided with Ighten. But, there was still hope for the Arken Queen. Ighten had been invaded, and the forces were pushing through the Ashgrown forest towards the capital city Lowight.

The city was dark, which meant the Queen was awake. The clouds covered the moon, so there was little light save the small flicker of torch light periodically spaced down the length of the alley.

Ora hiked up her skirts as she ran, leaping over fallen crates. Her break came in a fog as the winter air was sucked in and blew out hot with each gasping ragged breath.

“Hahaha,” she heard them laugh behind her. “Havick’s looking for you!”

Havick should have been dead. There was no way he could have lived. And yet, apparently he head. Her nightmare only grew worst by the fact that he was searching for her. She didn’t know what he would have planned as vengeance for her traitorous actions against him, or if he would just simply chain her to the counter of his tavern and force her to serve ale to the lecherous mob of Arroes for the rest of her life.

She turned down an even slimmer alley, hearing their feet gaining grown as she stumbled down the slipper steps. When she reached the bottom step she slipped, falling hard on her rear end, the back of her head smacking against the steps.

She groaned as she sat up dizzily, noting someone was stepping out of the shadows to stand in front of her. “Hello, Ora,” he muttered hoarsely.

Ora swallowed, looking up at the person who had stepped into the torchlight. His face was mangled and scarred heavily on one side from burns. His right eye a bright blue and washed over with white. He had a hood pulled over his head, but she could tell that his hair was gone on the right side of his head.

He put his boot down on her stomach and pressed. “You belong to me remember wench. You have a debt to be paid until I die.” He smiled. “I’m not dead yet.”

He kicked his leg out, and her world went dark.

* * *

Three weeks later:

Ora stumbled on her feet in the familiar tavern to the mage that had lived there. Havick had claimed it as his own, with all the help he needed from the city guard. It had been a beautiful place with polished wood and clean rooms to sleep in. Well, the rooms were still clean for the most part, but that was because she cared enough to keep them so. The wood was scarred where uncaring people had chosen to carve their names or initials into it.

She hoisted the tray up onto her shoulder and carried the drinks to the table that she had been order to. Then, she returned to the bar, wiping down the counter after two patrons left through the front doors. She tightened the apron around her waist. Her dress skirt long and brown. It wasn’t a flattering color brown, but it suited her nonetheless. She wore a black corset that pulled tight in the front, with a white blouse beneath. The blouse dipped slightly lower than she would have liked, but it was what she was given to wear and she’d rather wear something than go naked. Though, she figured Havick would have no objections to that.

The captain of the guard, her least favorite person in the entire world, stepped into the tavern, his eyes meeting hers before he smiled. He strode across the room with the heir of a man who had everything he wanted, or could if he chose.

He took his usual seat at the back of the room where the booth curved around the corner. He stretched his arms across the back of the wooden bench and waited for her to attend to him.

“’Ello, Ora,” he greeted with a nasty grin as she set his usual drink down in front of him. She didn’t say anything to him.

“Havick got you wearing such plain jewelry now,” he admitted as his large hand lifted up to trace the edge of the metal collar she wore. It kept her from leaving the tavern. It was magically ceiled so that if she left she’d have to return quickly or die. If she could get it off, she would have by now. But, Havick had hidden the key somewhere, and there was honestly no telling.

Ora jerked her neck away from him. “Anything else?” she asked.

“You know what I always say,” he said with a laugh.

“No,” she told him with a sickening quip, the look of revulsion sweeping over her delicate pale features.

“One day you will,” he added.

“My corpse might,” she replied, storming off.

The street was cold and dark. Logan really didn't like this city. Always dark. Especially since the war had heated up. He had been walking for days. He tried to restrain from flying too much these days. Too many people around to see him. He was so tired of people asking him to join their own personal army or cult. This war had the citizens of this world in a massive uproar.

He saw the sign for the tavern dimly lit. 'Why not?' he thought as he stepped towards the entrance.

The inside was just what he expected. A slew of low life's and criminals. He shrugged it off and found an empty table near the backside of the room. He took a seat and took another glance at the place. It wasn't much to look at, but not as bad as some of the places he had been in this city. Whoever the owner was, they seemed to keep it up rather well.

Ora glanced up as she was wiping the table and noted another customer had come in. She gave a heavy sigh and stepped around the counter towards his table. "Anything I can get you?" she asked him, forcing a soft smile on her face. She brushed several strands of black hair behind her ears as she waited for his reply.

"Ora!" the captain called from his corner.

"One minute," she called back. She glanced back to the new customer. "If you need a room its three gold peices, any currency as long as its gold. First pint of ale is free to staying customers, any after that is a silver peice."

Logan returned a smile to the young woman. She was cute but could definitely go for being cleaned up a little. Given by the collar around her neck, the girl was also a slave. Logan cringed a little at the thought, but held his smile. He hated the fact that people were slaves. Fellow humans. They weren't animals that needed to be collared. He didn't ponder on it though. It was common for slaves to be treated as lower beings, especially in Arken.

"I will take a room," he said as he handed the girl the three gold pieces. The touch of her fingers warmed his soul. The soft touch of a woman. He hadn't given himself much time for human interaction over the past few months. The world was going mad and he didn't want any part of it.

"And a pint of your best brew, please." he concluded. He looked into her crystal blue eyes. There was a lot more to this girl than just being a slave. But he didn't know what that was quite yet.

"One Durken Ale coming up," she said with a smile, glancing to his hand as it slipped the coins in. She felt an odd feeling at the touch of his, and she folded the coins in her hand before standing up straighter. "I'll be back with your key too."

"Ora!" the captain called.

"I'll bring you another round, will you please stop yelling," she told him as she walked back to the bar.

The room grew louder as patrons were now more drunk than they were when they had arrived, and their voices rose with the alcohal in their blood. Ora brought Logan the key to his room and a mug of ale. "Its number 3," she told him softly before walking off to give the Mord his third round of ale.

"About time," he nearly spat as he snatched the mug from her hand. "You look tired hun. Why don't you sit down on this hear leg and take a load off."

"How about I get Martha for you?" she asked him. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you."

"I don't want to see Martha," he snarled.

"Well then, I guess your leg will have to be lonely," Ora pointed out as she turned to walk away.

Logan watched as the man made a spectacle of the girl. He was definitely military. His uniform gave it away and he had a confidence and arrogance about him that would intimidate most men.

Logan knew that it was none of his business, but he found himself somewhat concerned about the girl. He kept an eye on the man to see how he reacted to the girls response.

"Hey, hey, hey," Mord muttered as Ora began walking away. He reached out for her hand and pulled her back. "Don't walk away."

She let out a heavy sigh and turned to look back at him. "Let go. I have work to do, Havick will be angry if I don't tend to these customers." She moved her other hand to pry his off. He just grabbed her other wrist and tugged her fast. She stumbled forward and fell into him, landing in his lap, right where he had asked her to sit. He wrapped his arms tight around her and bent his head down, kissing her firmly on the mouth. He pulled back with a laugh as she struggled out of his arms and stood up.

A look of outrage took hold of her expression and she leaned forward. She spat at him and then slapped him across the face. "Don't touch me," she yelled at him.

Mord sat stiff for a moment, and then reached up wipe the spit from his face. He stood up slowly, and she backed away, swallowing hard. She moved to get away from him fast, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat, but he managed to hit her before she even got a half a foot away. She fell to the floor hard, and stayed very still for a moment.

Mord stood looking down at her, a cruel smile on his face as he watched her struggle to sit up. Everyone in the room had gone quiet for a moment, but seeing that Mord was pleased, they returned to their merry making.

"Ora, get off the floor and get back to work," Havick called from the stairs as he came down with Martha hanging off his scarred arm.

Ora shifted to her feet slowly. She rubbed the side of her face, now red across her cheek bone, as she returned to the counter.

Her eyes watered as she fought back tears, swallowing hard as she went about her work, fighting not to just start sobbing. She gritted her teeth and did as she was told while Havick and Mord started talking like old friends... Well, they were.

She returned to Logan's table, looking down at the polished wood. "Do you want something to eat?" she asked, glancing up to his face.

Logan looked up at the slave girls face. Red from where the brute's hand had connected with it. "I'm fine," he said in a calm, comforting voice. He gave her a look of reassurance that everything would be okay.

"Are you alright?" He finally asked after giving a quick glance in the captain's direction.

Ora froze, looking down on him with the strangest expression. Not many people cared to even ask if she was alright, if any at all. "I am... fine," she said after a moment of clarity to find the will to admit the wrong. "Thank you." She brushed her hand across her skin, where it was hot from the hit. She gave a sigh, glancing over as Martha came waltzing up.

"Well, aren't you nice looking," she mused as she slinked into the seat next to Logan. "Need some company for the night? I'm sure you've been traveling for a long while, you look it." Martha leaned over with her finger trip trailing up the center of his chest and then taking his chin in her finger tips. "Let's see..."

"Martha," Ora muttered.

Martha scowled at her. "If I'm not your type then there is Reyla and of course Ora here."

"Martha!" Ora said more firmly, now both her cheeks a flushed rose, a stark contrast with the pailness of her skin.

"Oh don't be shy Ora, he's cute," Martha told her with a grin. She leaned on his shoulder. "You could have all three for the right price. If not... Reyla is the most dangerous one, if you get my drift. I, well, I'm here to please. Unfortunately Ora's talents are unknown, as she was just promoted a little while ago." Martha laughed with an almost ear peircing cackle. "So what will it be baby?"

Logan grin and then licked his lips, playing along with the tramp. He took his eyes from Martha and looked back at Ora. "She does look rather enticing, doesn't she?"

He took Ora's hand in his and rubbed it softly. He ran his fingers up her arm to her neck. "Of course, I don't want her with this collar around her neck," He said tugging at the lock on the collar.

He scanned Ora's entire body with vigilant eyes. "How much for her?" He finally asked.

Ora went completely pale, her breath catching in her throat and she held it. She felt sick. For a moment, for just a breif moment she had thought that maybe she'd found someone nice out of all the mess there was in the world. She felt a little defeated, because her life would be hell if she lashed out at a customer. It wasn't so bad to do it to the captain, he was used to it.

Her mind raced with a way out of the situation, but she suddenly realized with fear, that there was no way out.

Martha leaned against him. "Well, Havick usually charges five gold for me, but she's new at it... I'd say you'd have to pay at least ten for the chance to break her in. The collar won't come off though, that's to keep her here. She's very bad about running away. The only way you'd get it off is with a key, and you'd have to get that over Havick's dead body." Martha snickered.

Logan stepped towards Martha causing her to stumble back into the wall behind her. He leaned in to her face, his nose nearly touching hers. "Why don't you go fetch Havick for me then, so I can get on with my night?" His voice was hard and demeaning.

He turned back to Ora and stepped close to her, trapping her between himself and the table where he had sit. "Don't worry!!" he whispered, "It'll be fun."

He could feel the fear inside of her and wanted to comfort her, but he knew he had to play it as a scum at least for a while.

Ora glanced at his eyes fearfully, but then averted her gaze. She was trembling now, barely able to stand her knees were shaking so bad. She didn't think she could walk up the stares if required to. Her hands clenched the end of the polished table for support and she waited as Martha went to fetch Havick.

Havick stared intently in their direction at first, a cruel smile slowly growing on his marred face. He excused himself from Mord, and walked his burly body over to Logan. "Martha tells me you want the pleasure of our Ora's company tonight," he mused as his mutilated hand reached out to trace the smooth edge of her jaw. She flinched away from his touch, looking down at the floor. Her teeth gritted until the point they hurt, and she had to remind herself to keep breathing.

She just kept rolling over how to escape this situation. "That'll be ten gold peices," he said as he held out his hand now to Logan. "If your good for it." He chuckled. "Just don't break her, she's the best bar maid I've ever had."

Logan pulled a bag of gold coins out of his side pocket. "How much would it cost to get that collar off her neck?" He said without taking his eyes off of Ora. "I don't want to hurt myself or her with that thing."

He turned to look at the rather large man. "Don't you have a anklet or something you can put on her?" He tried to convince the man as best he could without causing an uproar in the place.

Havick looked at Ora. "I don't have an anklet, but I could have my blacksmith whip one up by tomorrow..." he mused on the thought. "I can see how you might be a little hindered by it. Especially a vampire. Its just I'm not keen on taking it off. You see she has a habbit of escaping. If I take it off and you fall a sleep when your done with her, she might run off. Then, I've got to get the captain over there involved."

"Not that I'll complain," Mord pointed out as he grinned at Ora.

"Maybe we can strike a deal though," Havick said as he took the bag of coins, jingling it. "I'll unlock that collar, and you go have your fun... and when your done you bring her to my office and I'll put it back on." He chuckled menacingly. "Got a deal?" He reached under his shirt for the key that dangled on a gold chain around his neck.